I got colours and I got class.
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The dried out sands of this winter mirage seems to stand off hand through my naked eye. My dreams vanished with the disappearance of this unlikely haven as my eyes touched the eye piece of my time rusted silver mirro-scope. Each step taken drags my beaten spirits down with my sole, grinding a size 12 footprint into the famished sand with each following step. Breath in. This exhale seems to be my last as my vision seems to fade and come following suit with each eager breath. Tick tick the slender hand strikes fifty-five chiming this mirage into reality. Only this time I see no barren desserts. I see to the end of the horizon, past the sun's atmosphere & through the storm's eye.
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We are everything, homegrown out of this world. I'm just Barrett and I'm walking in these shoes I was given, trippin' over my laces. So come walk with me because all I want out of life is a friend or two to sing the blues about some non-existant strife.
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